


I Dream Within a City Built on Lies

by amaurot



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: All the time, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Guardian Uldren Sov, Moral Dilemmas, OCs - Freeform, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible smut, Prison of Elders, Romantic Soulmates, ace is also my character, and let's not forget riven, and zaya, bc i decided the Awoken deserve soulmates, cayde is a doofus, i have several ocs for the drama, ikora is just angry, mara sov get fucked challenge, or something like it, phoebe is my character, we're looking into uldren's past as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaurot/pseuds/amaurot
Summary: "This is all you get."Ace is pissed, and Phoebe understands why. His mentor is dead. He deserves to be pissed."If you really think he's sick, then help him. But if you can't, then I'm putting a bullet through his chest."She nods. "Deal."--or, in which a particular guardian takes it upon herself to save one man's life before he inevitably snuffs it out by mistake.
Relationships: Female Guardian/Uldren Sov, Uldren Sov/Original Character(s), Uldren Sov/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 14





	1. Fireflies and Freedom

Much of Osana’s life had been shrouded in uncertainty when it came to her children.

For the most part, they were good children. Uldwyn had a history of getting into fights in the play yard with his classmates, and Mara was a quiet girl, but… Generally unproblematic. Rarely bickered – if ever.

Most of the time, though, what Mara said was law. Uldwyn did not want to anger his sister, and – quite frankly – Osana appreciated that.

Their father had died when the twins were only a few months old. It had been up to Osana to raise them by herself, and – try as she might – she knew she wasn’t perfect. She knew she let Mara get away with certain things that Uldwyn was harshly reprimanded for. She knew that she sometimes favored one a little bit more over the other.

She could remarry, yes. There was nothing that said she _couldn’t_ remarry. But something about the idea made her refrain.

“Mum.”

Osana looks down at her son, who is holding out his hands to her. They are cupped together, and she can see a soft light pulsating from within.

She leans over a bit, careful of her daughter’s head cradled in her lap as the girl sleeps. “Yes, Wyn?”

He opens his hands just enough to let her look in. “It’s a firefly.”

Indeed, she can see several of the little creatures within her son’s cupped hands. The pride on his face is enough to make her smile a little herself.

“How many can you catch?”

“A whole lot!”

“Run inside, and get yourself a jar then.” She gently transfers the little bugs into her own palms. “Quickly, before they try to fly away.”

Disregarding the need to be quiet, Uldwyn sprints into the house, steps heavy. He lets the screen door slam behind him.

Mara’s eyes open slowly, and she sits up. A yawn overtakes her, and she rubs the sleep out of her eyes. “Mum…?”

“Only your brother.” Osana smiles softly. “He’s catching fireflies, if you’d like to assist him.”

She makes a face which can only be equated to disgust. “Gross.”

He comes racing back out, carrying a jar and a lid. “I’m gonna catch all of them!”

“You can’t catch all of ‘em, weirdo.” Mara mutters, tugging her boots on so she can stand up. “There’s just as many fireflies out here as there are in the sky.”

Uldwyn shoots her a glare that she doesn’t see, since she’s looking down, but doesn’t say anything to his sister otherwise.

“Be nice, Mara.”

“Fireflies are gross.”

“Because they’re _bugs?”_ Uldwyn has already begun to stalk one in the grass.

“Of _course_ because they’re bugs.” Mara finally looks up as she stands, jumping from the top step of the stairs to the stones that lead out into the backyard. “All those legs.” She shudders.

Osana takes the time to interrupt them before they get too far into their argument. “There’s an old story that fireflies are from burning grasses.”

Uldwyn is more than happy to deposit three more of the little bugs into the jar. “Really? That’s silly.”

“People didn’t know any better back then.” She makes sure that the lid isn’t screwed on tight enough that the little bugs can’t breathe. “It was something they couldn’t understand.”

 _“Everyone_ knows that the bugs do that to get a girlfriend.”

“They didn’t know a long time ago.”

“Yeah, Mara!” Uldwyn turns to face his sister, grinning. “People weren’t as smart as we are now!”

Osana looks up at the sky. “There were others that believed them to be the spirits of great warriors that had fallen in battle.”

This captures Uldwyn’s interest more fully. “Warriors?”

She opens the jar to let him put a few more of the bugs in. One nearly escapes, but she gently pushes it back in with the rest of them. “Oh, yes. The souls of great warriors who died to protect their people. To protect what was right.”

Uldwyn gently takes the jar from her, holding it up to his face. Mara, despite her earlier disinterest in the bugs, does take a small step forward. From the light of the little bugs, Osana can see the bruise on her son’s face from his fighting a day ago.

“What else did they mean?” He asks softly.

Osana kneels down next to her children, taking the jar from her son and slowly unscrewing the lid. “They were also a symbol for love…”

Both children watch the fireflies ascend to blend in with the stars, the little golden lights reflecting in their eyes.

* * *

_What is it like to be loved, dear sister?_

_What is it like to know that your success is your own, and not from another?_

_What is it like to so easily cast away what you do not need?_

_I want to know._

* * *

It has been centuries since he has seen a firefly. He is, in all honesty, not even sure if they still exist.

But it is one of the few _good_ memories that he has of his mother, so he holds it close. The slight smiles and stories that she told him are things that he does not want to forget. Regardless of whether or not she abandoned him and his sister.

_Stop thinking of useless things._

It is Mara’s voice again. It has been Mara’s voice for a long time. More often than his own.

There are other things that he can remember when he grounds himself to the cold metal and chains of the prison. To the shrieking and screaming of the other prisoners.

How desperately they wish to be freed! How they wail about their torment!

It sickens him somedays.

There are other things that he can remember when he grounds himself.

The memories are like pieces of a puzzle to which he has no picture for. Little fragments of something that should be much, _much_ larger.

The first ‘fragment’ is a man. Awoken, like himself. He throws his head back and laughs, white hair falling out of place before he smooths it back again.

In a way, he is the most familiar and the most foreign.

The second ‘fragment’ is of his mother. Unlike the memory of her with the fireflies, this one is out of place – almost distorted. He’s not sure if it’s a real memory, or if he made it up.

But she is arguing with Mara. Shaking her head. Telling her _no._

And it angers his sister. He feels angry too, but it is shallow. Like he doesn’t really mean it, or it’s merely someone else’s feelings.

He isn’t sure.

The last ‘fragment’ is of a young woman. She is so clear, but he has to try his hardest to remember her. Like there is someone that holds her back in his mind. He isn’t sure.

But her hair is black – a straight black curtain that falls down her back and ends just above her waist. Her cheeks are sunburned, and whatever isn’t pink from the sun is a light tan. Her expression is, overall, neutral. But there is something… melancholy in her eyes.

_Stop thinking of useless things._

Mara’s voice is louder in his mind this time.

He forgets the fragments again. Ungrounds himself from the cold metal and the screaming, and turns to look over his shoulder as the hatch to his cell opens.

_Are you ready? The Vanguard comes._

The Fallen exit their cells, somewhat sluggish in their movements. As if they have been sleeping for years, and only now were able to awake.

Uldren Sov steps out of his own, eager to fulfill his destiny.


	2. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe finds out about a certain man's crimes. She makes a deal with the kinderguardian who has sworn revenge against him.

There’s a memory that clings to his circuits as he watches his own death approach. It’s one that hasn’t ever surfaced before, and he can’t help but wonder if it’s the Traveler trying to give him some small comfort after the death of his ghost.

He knows it’s Ace, although this is the first time that he’s ever really caught a clear glimpse of his son’s face in his memories. But there’s something that tells him, deep down within, that he would never forget his own son’s face.

And it’s nice, really, to know that he truly did exist.

Later, they’d call it “Cayde’s Last Stand”, and toast to him in the many bars that dotted the Tower and the City. They’d never really know exactly what happened, but they would know that he fought brilliantly and without fear. To some he would be a hero, and to many more, a friend.

But Cayde doesn’t think about any of that as he lets the memory replay through his mind. Sees his son’s white-blond hair and his blue eyes.

Uldren’s voice sounds so very far away as he asks, _“Any last words?”_

He would not be Cayde-6 if he did not make his last words memorable. So he looked Uldren in the eye and smiled.

“How’s your sister?”

* * *

Phoebe doesn’t think she’s ever been to the Tower when it’s felt so _melancholy_.

Something has happened, but the oppressive, overwhelming feeling of sadness don’t do anything to tell her what it is until she sees the first banner being swayed gently in the breeze.

Rather than continue on her way to sell the things in her bag, she makes a sharp turn and heads for the Hunter’s Den. Her Ghost is firing question after question down the neurolink, but since she has no answers for herself, she ignores them.

The Den is mostly deserted, save for the bartender and two Guardians. One sits at the bar itself, and the other sits two tables behind him. The latter glances up at the former after a few seconds, and then locks eyes with Phoebe.

She slides into the chair across from her. “What happened?”

Zaya looks haggard. When was the last time she had slept? “Cayde – he’s been killed.”

Phoebe was never close with the Hunter Vanguard, but she knows her friend – however begrudgingly she may call her that – most certainly was. But, on that same note, “I could figure that out from the several different spade banners around the city. What _happened?”_

“Murdered.” Although ‘murdered’ and ‘killed’ are generally used interchangeably, Phoebe doesn’t have it in her to snap that out to her. Especially not when Zaya glances away from her to the Guardian sitting at the bar. “The kinderguardian found him. Brought his body back here.”

Phoebe looks over at the kinder, and then back to her friend. “Where?”

“Prison of Elders. Petra requested assistance in quelling a riot, and Zavala told him to take a Hunter.” She finally looks away from the kinder as well. “He took Ace.”

The kinderguardian suddenly slams his glass down on the counter – hard enough that she’s sure the force should have shattered it, even though it doesn’t – and turns towards them. “And I’ll kill the bastard who did it.”

Zaya stands up, “Ace –”

He storms past her and out of the Den.

She slumps back down into her chair. Phoebe is sure that she can see the full weight of responsibilities on her shoulders now that a vanguard is no longer at the table.

“Ikora already told him to go to the Tangled Shore.” She rubs her temple. “I want to avenge Cayde, too –”

 _Wait._ “Back up.”

Zaya gives her a curious look, brushing her red hair behind her ear. “To what?”

“Ikora told him to go _where?”_

“The Tangled Shore?”

Phoebe feels dread sink into her stomach.

Everything is lining up – the Prison of Elders, the Tangled Shore, Cayde’s death. She desperately wants to hope that she’s wrong. The suspect that she has in mind could _not_ have killed Cayde, because he just – well, he just _couldn’t_ have. She wants to believe this, for her own sake, and her words are nothing more than a whisper that can’t be heard when she _does_ ask.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to repeat herself.

Zaya finishes the last of whatever was in her own glass, setting it down much more gently than Ace did just a few moments ago. She stands up, pulling her hood over her head. “Uldren Sov killed Cayde. Ikora gave Ace her blessing to return the favor, regardless of what Zavala said.”

Cherry is mumbling something down the link to her, but she can’t make out what it is. Zaya’s statement – _Uldren Sov killed Cayde_ – is all she can hear, echoing in her mind, but Phoebe does manage to force out a different question.

“What are you going to do –?”

Zaya looks sad for a moment, and then she gives her a smile that is painfully forced. “Cayde and I had a bet. I’ve got to follow through. Can’t just leave Ikora and Zavala to do all the heavy lifting.”

It’s only as she turns away and leaves the Den does Phoebe realize she was wearing the Vanguard cloak the whole time.

* * *

Jolyon is too busy getting shot at to answer the incessant chiming in his pocket at first. As much as he would like to answer it immediately, he’s a little more focused on fighting back against the Scorned and _not_ getting his head blown off in the process.

Finally, the shots stop just long enough for him to dig into his pocket and fish out the little device.

_“Took you long enough.”_

“My apologies, some of us don’t get the luxury of disappearing into the woods.” He’s smiling, though. “It’s good to see you’re still alive, Thorne.”

_“The same could almost be said about you, Tills.”_

Jolyon sets the device down, close enough to still be heard, but also to free his hands to fight back. “What did you cram yourself into this time?” _Isn’t this channel for emergencies only?_

 _“None of your business.”_ Phoebe snaps back. _“Joking aside, I need your help.”_

“You?” Jolyon ducks down to avoid getting shot, then pops back up to shoot back. “Must be desperate.”

_“It includes Uldren.”_

The name is like a sharp blow to his chest, and he has to duck back down to take a deep breath. Joking aside _completely_ , it would seem.

Phoebe doesn’t hesitate to continue on. “ _He’s escaped the Prison of Elders. You and I are going to go find him.”_

It takes him a second, but he realizes there is _something_ that she is holding back. “What did he do?”

_“Jolyon –”_

“Tell me what he did, Thorne.” He keeps his head low.

Silence. Long enough that he begins to think that maybe she left rather than answer his question. Not like he won’t find out somehow anyways, but –

_“He killed Cayde. The Hunter Vanguard.”_

His breath catches in his throat.

_“I wasn’t going to tell you, but –”_

“No, I’m glad you did.” He tries to keep his voice light. “Gives me a reason to beat the hell out of him.

This is… the furthest from what he wanted to hear. He wanted his friend to get out of the Prison – to get _better_ – but this wasn’t how he wanted it to happen. Never like this.

And Phoebe? How did she feel about this?

“What’s the plan?”

_“I don’t know yet. What I do know is that there’s already guardians after him. We need to be fast.”_

“I have a nest in the Shore. Do you think you can find it?” Jolyon pulls a grenade out of a pocket on his thigh.

_“I guess we’ll find out.”_

She doesn’t give him time to respond before disconnecting from the frequency.

Jolyon doesn’t give _himself_ time to think about Uldren until he’s thrown the grenade and is sprinting back towards his nest.

* * *

She’s never really had need to visit the hangar before. Nothing beyond visit Amanda for business. As she darts across the Tower, she comes to the conclusion that she has two reasons, and neither include that.

 _This is very different from selling golden age tech that you’ve dug out of junkyards._ Cherry whispers down the link. _This is treason! Don’t fool yourself._

 _It’s necessary_.

_To what?_

Phoebe doesn’t answer.

Cherry never liked the Awoken prince. ‘Too uppity’, she’d muttered when it was just the two of them. She didn’t complain as much after Phoebe had accidentally admitted that she’d taken a liking to him, but that didn’t change the fact that they both knew her true feelings on the subject.

The only one that she’d worried about when they disappeared after several months was Jolyon, anyways.

It’s not important, however, because she’s finally found the kinderguardian that was at the bar. Ace, or something like that – she’s pretty sure that’s what Zaya called him.

“Take me with you to the Shore.”

The kinder turns to look at her, confusion and a bit of anger plain on his face. “What?”

“I need to go to the Tangled Shore.” She removes her knife from her side. “I need you to take me.”

He stares at her for a second, glancing between the knife and her own determined expression, then redirects his attention to his ship to oversee the onloading of supplies. “I’m not taking a civilian with me. You know how much shit I would be in for that?”

She can feel Cherry buzzing with anger, but the ghost doesn’t show herself, thankfully.

“Just – please.”

“Give me a damn good reason and I’ll consider it.”

 _Not killing Uldren, for starters,_ but she doesn’t think he’ll accept that without a bit more explanation.

“My name is Phoebe.” She sheathes her knife on her hip, deciding that she needs to be as truthful as possible. “I _can_ take care of myself in the Shore, and I _don’t_ believe that Uldren would have killed Cayde without an _extremely_ good reason.

That gets the kinder’s attention, and he glances in her direction. The fire in his eyes from before seems almost brighter than before. “How do you know _anything_ about Uldren Sov?”

“I just do.” She can’t tell him that much, if only for her reputation. “But you have to let me figure it out. You can’t –”

“Can’t what?” He takes a step closer to her. “Can’t kill him? After what he did?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“Then what the hell _are_ you saying?”

“I’m saying I want to figure out what happened rather than shed more blood!”

The kinder turns away from her, looking very much like he wants to hit something – maybe even hit _her_ – or scream. He just shakes his head, though, as if the other two would take too much work.

“I’m not going to sit around and wait for you.” He finally faces her completely. “Whoever finds him first decides what happens.”

It’s not much, but Phoebe nods all the same.

“This is all you get.”

Ace is pissed, and Phoebe understands why. His mentor and friend is dead. He deserves to be pissed.

“If you really think he’s sick or something, then do what you need to. Otherwise, he’s getting the same treatment he gave Cayde.”

She nods. “Deal.”

* * *

The embers that float away from the fire remind him of his mother.

She told them so many stories when they were children. About the sky, and the clouds, fireflies and spirits.

He misses her. He misses catching fireflies. He misses Mara. He misses the man with white hair in his memories (he swears his name is on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t figure it out). He misses the woman that he danced with (he remembered that yesterday. She looked so happy).

Was his mother ever proud of him like she was Mara?

_It doesn’t really matter now, does it?_

Not really.

Osana Sov abandoned them. She stayed in the Distributary, rather than come with them.

But it doesn’t matter now.

Nothing matters beyond saving Mara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this would have come out faster but i decided that uldren just had to have a little bit of input


	3. The Shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe and Jolyon rendezvous on the Tangled Shore.

The Tangled Shore is strangely hidden.

It takes the both of them an hour to find an entrance to the actual shore itself, and then the kinder forces her to stay back while he goes to clear out whatever is in front of them.

He had offered a gun to her in his ship. Had said that he couldn’t – in good conscience – let her run around unarmed.

All Phoebe had done was show him her knife as she had done in the hangar of the Tower. “Don’t need it.”

He didn’t offer the gun again.

After he cleared out the Fallen, the kinder led her the rest of the way to the Shore.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.” She answers truthfully. “I need to find a sniper’s nest, although the bastard didn’t think to tell me where to look.

Ace raises a brow, then glances around. “Look up, then.”

As if she didn’t already know.

Ace breaks off of their already tiny group with the extra fallen that he seems to have collected while he was by himself. His ghost transmats into existence next to his head, looking back at Phoebe. His shell spins, and he tilts as if he is trying to figure out something about her.

Phoebe watches for a few moments, silently urging the boy to put away his ghost before something happens. She can’t wait too long for her unspoken pleas to be answered, though, and she quickly turns away.

Cherry connects to the ‘emergencies only’ frequency, and they both wait for Jolyon.

There’s a loud gunshot just as he connects, which echoes around Phoebe outside of the transmission. Whoever is shooting, they’re close.

“Where are you?” He asks immediately. “I’d hate to kill you, Thorne.”

“Trust me, you won’t.” She looks around for any fallen, unsheathing her knife so she’s ready. “I’m in the Shore. The actual Shore.”

“Thieves’ Landing? The Jetsam?”

“Tills, have I ever remotely come close to the Tangled Shore?”

“Fair. I forgot that you’d preferred staying in your cottage rather than going on adventures.” He pauses, as if waiting for a reaction – that Phoebe refuses to give – and then continues. “Here, I’ll send you a map of the area.”

Cherry transmats into view, despite Phoebe not having given her permission to do so. She lets it go, though.

The little ghost pulls up the map so the both of them can see it. “We’re here. Where the green dot is.”

“I can’t see a green dot, Thorne.”

He’s teasing, but she thanks whatever it is watching over her that he didn’t recognize the voice to belong to a ghost. Shooing away Cherry, she takes a second before answering.

“Thieves’ Landing.”

“Really? One second.”

There’s a long time where he doesn’t answer, and Phoebe begins to wonder if she should start moving before the Fallen find her. However, the sudden growling behind her tells her that it’s too late for that. She removes her knife, turning to look at them.

Her light slowly rises to the surface, crackling at her fingertips. It’s slow to awaken, groggy after centuries of avoiding any amount of fighting.

She refuses to give them time to raise their rifles.

The first dreg goes down after a swift jab to the neck, and the second gets kicked into the third.

Since these are only dregs, she has a feeling there’s a vandal nearby. Maybe a captain as well, if she’s unlucky.

A loud gunshot suddenly goes off, and she turns around just in time to see the vandal that she had been wondering about fall to the ground.

The dregs clack their teeth together behind her as they get up.

The sound brings her back to the present danger, and she ignores the vandal in favor of keeping her own life.

Rather than give them time to regain their balance completely, she sweeps the leg of one – tripping in the process. The other tries to take her own off balance as an opportunity, and lunges at her, but she lurches out of the way.

Another gunshot, and the one that she tripped goes down _again._

She scrambles forward, shoving her knife into the stomach of the other. It screeches – deafeningly loud – but she snaps its neck before it can bring others to their location.

“Nice moves.”

She feels disgusting – covered in the reddish purple blood belonging to the fallen. She yanks the knife out of the belly of the one she just killed.

“Was that you, Tills?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you glad that I’m here to watch out for you?”

“Very funny.” She shoves her knife back into the sheath on her side. “Where are you?”

“Turn around and start walking. Obviously, I see you, so I’ll come down to meet you when you get close.”

Phoebe doesn’t like the cryptic directions. She could walk right into another band of fallen if she isn’t careful, or Jolyon doesn’t spot her again. She trusts Jolyon – if he had wanted her dead, he wouldn’t have shot that vandal – but even the people you trust can make mistakes.

She turns and begins to carefully pick her way across the Shore, staying close to cover just in case.

 _How are you feeling?_ Cherry whispers down the neurolink.

Phoebe pushes down her fear and anxiety, although she knows the little ghost can always dig a little deeper to find out the truth. _Fine._

_Liar._

She smiles just a little bit.

Cherry continues. _What are you worried about?_

Her smile disappears. _All of it._

_What’s ‘all of it’?_

_What if we don’t get to Uldren first, Cherry? What if he really did choose to pull the trigger because he wanted to?_

Cherry is quiet for a moment before answering. _You need to ask Jolyon what happened. Why the two of them never came back._ _Beyond that, though, you’ll have to work to find the answers. It’ll work out._ She pauses for another second. _Besides the fact that this is basically treason._

Phoebe allows herself to laugh softly.

Treason or not, she has to get to the bottom of this. She needs to understand why, and she’s sure Jolyon feels the same way – if he doesn’t already know why.

Whatever happens, at least they’ll have answers.

At least she won’t have sat back this time.

She stumbles a little, distracting her from thoughts of Vespir and –

_No. She’s fine._

She needs to focus on helping Uldren. The past – _her_ past – won’t help them here.

Phoebe looks up.

Jolyon is standing at the bottom of a tower with a large dome at the top of it.

The tower itself looks barely proportionate enough to hold the dome steady, and she almost expects it to start leaning haphazardly in the wind. Windows line the sides of the dome, facing every direction and providing optimal cover as well.

A sniper’s nest.

It reminds her of the mushrooms that she’s seen on earth.

She stops, though, staring at Jolyon.

The last time she had seen him was… what? Ten years ago? At least? On top of that, they’d all been drunk anyways. He’d passed out on her couch.

But he hadn’t changed. Not physically, at least.

His hair is still a silvery white, smoothed over to the side as neatly as possible – despite that, it’s still messy – and she can see the faint glow of his eyes from where she stands. A bright yellow, which was terrifying after dark.

Her heart aches, wondering what happened all those years ago. Why one night they were laughing and having fun, and the next, she couldn’t contact them at all.

Jolyon has noticed her, though, and he’s making a ‘hurry up’ motion.

Phoebe hesitates a moment longer, and before she can think about just how ridiculous it’s going to make her look, she sprints as fast as possible to close the remaining distance between her and the Crow.

Before she can think about just how ridiculous it’s going to make her look, she throws her arms around him and hugs him as tight as possible.

It’s been years, and she must have caught him by surprise, because he takes a second before hugging her back.

“Heya.”

“I hate you.” She mutters. “Both of you cause so many problems.”

Jolyon laughs. “It’s a gift.” He pulls back, a smile still on his face. “But not one we’ll be able to appreciate fully if we get shot.” He points up. “Let’s go.”

She looks up, and is somewhat relieved that there is a rope ladder waiting to assist in the climb. There’s no way she could get that high up without some sort of assistance.

Jolyon lets her go first, waiting until she’s halfway before following. She looks down at him just a second, and then pulls herself up into the hole leading into the dome.

The space is smaller than she expected, and it’s mostly bare. There’s absolutely nothing in front of the windows anywhere. The only clues to someone living there is a half assembled rifle leaning against the wall near a messy bedroll. Beside the rifle, there’s what appears to be a picture. From where she stands, she can’t quite make out who it is.

She doesn’t have time to look either, because in the time that it took her to study her new surroundings, Jolyon has already pulled himself up into the dome with her.

“Alright,” he turns to pull up the rope ladder, “What’s the plan?”

Ignoring the picture, Phoebe turns to look at him. “We have to get to him first.” _Before the kinder does._

“And if we don’t?” He pushes a slab over the opening.

“Simple. He will die.”

Jolyon stands up, brushing his hands off on his pants. “Alright, we have to find him first. And then what?”

She clenches her jaw. “I don’t _know_ , Tills. Do I look like an expert on this kind of thing?”

“Hey, finding Uldren is a good start.” He walks past her to the bedroll, reaching for the disassembled rifle.

Both of them fall quiet for a moment, each thinking of ways to help the former prince. Or, at the very least, finding out why he would do such things.

Jolyon breaks the silence first, looking up at her. “We have to talk to him.”

Phoebe had been staring out the window facing the east, but she whirls around to face him once more. “Are you kidding? How would you even consider going about that?”

“Well, if you have something –”

He’s interrupted by a loud _boom_ , accompanied by the tower shaking dangerously.

Since Jolyon is already sitting, there’s little for him to do. Phoebe on the other hand, grabs the ledge of the window and kneels down lest she finds herself falling _out_ of the window suddenly.

They watch each other for a moment, waiting to see if there’s another. After a few seconds, one goes off in the distance – and then another – and then Phoebe realizes that they’re explosions getting ever closer to the tower.

And they aren’t slow about it either.

“What is that?” She yells over the noise.

Maybe this is just something that happens in the Shore. She wouldn’t know otherwise, since she’s never been here before.

“I don’t know!” Jolyon shouts back. “But if it doesn’t stop, this tower is going down!”

Alright, so perhaps it isn’t something that just happens in the Shore.

_What are we going to do?_

Phoebe doesn’t know, but she’s not going to let this place go down with them in it. Despite the danger, she peeks over the window ledge.

Something flies past, and she ducks back down. Moments later, another explosion that sends the tower shaking again.

“Well?” Jolyon’s moved back over to the slab so he can move it if needed. The fully assembled rifle is strapped to his back. “See anything?”

She shakes her head. “Couldn’t get a good look. Give me a second.”

“We might not have a second, Phoebe!”

She knows, but it could be worse on the ground. They need a good idea of what’s going on.

They can’t die before they’ve even gotten a chance to help Uldren.

Phoebe waits for another explosion to go off before peeking over the edge again. The sight makes her freeze.

There’s four – no, five – six? She can’t get a proper count, several of them break off from the group and rejoin it more than once, and it’s hard to make out details when they’re moving so fast. Four stay on the ground, though.

They’re huge, way bigger than normal fallen – of which they look like but most certainly could not be. Some sort of blue ether emits from their gray skin, at times making them appear almost translucent – or invisible. What few clothes they do wear have been ripped to shreds, and any armor is either rusted or painted yellow. The largest one wields a ball and chain, and the one closest in height, a spear.

That’s not the worst of it, though.

Phoebe stands up completely, bracing herself against the wall to the right of the window. At the very least, she has less of a chance of falling.

“What do you see?” Jolyon asks.

She takes a deep breath, and then screams as loud as she can over the chaos on the shore.

_“Uldren!”_


End file.
